Love, Mistakes, & Cowardice
by tukct81
Summary: This is a post episode fic for 3x19 with spoilers included for 3x20. Elena visits Damon after the decade dance wanting to mend fences, but he isn't feeling particularly forgiving.
1. Chapter 1

**So I know post-episode fanfictions for 3x19 have already been done to death and it has only been a day, but this incorporates the next episode as well. It includes the basic spoilers that you get from watching the 3x20 promo. I wrote this because I felt a serious need to vent. I loved 3x19. That kiss was all I wanted it to be and more, but Elena's reaction after was horrible. She really needs to redeem herself before she finds her way back to Damon. This is my attempt at writing that. I hope you enjoy.**

After two life threatening experiences at the decade dance, you'd think I would have learned my lesson and stayed home, but tonight was all a bad case of déjà vu. Caroline convinced me, after much pleading, to ask Stefan to the dance. Her ulterior motives were all too transparent. Stefan is her friend and she hates Damon. I don't need to take a poll to tell her opinion on who I should be with. Caroline tried to reminisce with me about all the fun that I had with Stefan at the last two decade dances, you know in between the murder and mayhem. Her persistence isn't what swayed me though. Ultimately, I agreed to ask Stefan, because Damon was barely speaking to me at the moment. Our trip to Denver had put a rather difficult strain on our relationship. Kissing him without knowing my true feelings was bad enough. But once he heard that I was waiting for him to sabotage himself, he was beyond my abilities to reason with him. The look in his eyes when I admitted to it was indescribable. He wasn't just angry or hurt. Damon was disappointed in me. He thought more of me, and I let him down. In the end, I didn't need Damon to sabotage our potential relationship. I could do that just fine all alone.

I tried to tell myself that it was better this way. Going with Stefan to the dance would be easy. Being with Stefan was always easy. He did whatever I wanted, never questioned me, and treated me like a saintly angel incapable of flaws. Most girls would kill for that, but the entire night something felt off. It was as if something was missing. The night should have been perfect. Stefan picked me up in a fabulous suit. He said all the right things. We danced and we laughed. It was like traveling back in time when Stefan and I were happy. The entire night was like living in a memory, but it wasn't until Damon showed up announcing trouble that I realized what had been missing from the evening, him.

I never got the full version of events, but Damon said the Reader's Digest version was that evil Alaric was plotting with Esther who had possessed Rebekah to take down all the Originals. Luckily we averted her plan with little difficulty, but not before Kol was staked by Alaric's alter ego. I swear my heart stopped beating when I saw his body go grey. My eyes scanned the crowd for Damon, and it took nearly three hours of me constantly asking, "are you okay? Do you feel different," before I felt assured Damon, Stefan and Caroline were safe. It seemed every other day I was on the brink of losing him. Whether it was Klaus, Rebekah, or the ever present threat of another werewolf bite, I lived in constant fear that one day Damon would get himself killed.

This is one of the many reasons I find myself at the boardinghouse summoning the courage to face Damon. Our last real conversation didn't end well and the last thing I need is a repeat performance. I stand just outside his open door waiting for Damon to notice me. Of course he has just gotten out of the shower, so he isn't yet wearing a shirt. Why must he always be shirtless? It makes it a lot harder to form coherent thoughts. It doesn't take long for Damon to recognize my presence and form a sarcastic remark intent on making me leave.

"Creepy lurker girl, my brother's room is down in the hallway in case you've forgotten," Damon announces to me without looking me in the eyes. "He is off dealing with Psycho-Alaric at the moment, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind you waiting in his room," Damon offers, as graciously as he can muster considering how angry he still is at me.

"I wanted to talk to you," I admit carefully. Damon digests my words and glares at me with barely veiled contempt.

"If this is idle chit chat because you're bored and Stefan isn't here, I think I'll skip it," Damon dismisses me swiftly. He throws a novel in my direction that lands at my feet. "Here's a book, entertain yourself," Damon suggests indifferently.

"I'm not here for Stefan," I confess, staring down at my feet like a guilty child. Damon's capacity for civility is quickly stretched to its limit, and his thin veil of contempt is torn away. There is nothing veiled about this. Damon is hurt and his words tumble out of his mouth with a bitter trace of resentment and anger.

"So what, you want a replay of the other night, you and me pressed up against a wall clawing at each other for dear life," Damon asks crossly? "Maybe another couple minutes of dry humping and you can finally answer the infamous question of whether you _like_ me or not. Or maybe you're here to finish what we started, try and fuck me out of your system so you can go back to your white knight. Sorry to disappoint princess, but I've played the role of boy toy before, and contrary to popular opinion, not that much fun," Damon finishes ranting, and he gives me a moment to wallow in self-loathing. I'm not a saint. I've lived and I've made too many mistakes, but judging by the heartbreaking betrayal on Damon's face, this might be the worst thing I've ever done to another person. I try to defend myself, find some words that will fix what I've obviously broken.

"Damon, I would never . . ."

"Save it," Damon interrupts coldly. "The nice and innocent act worked a lot better before you used me in your little failed experiment at finding answers," Damon concludes brusquely.

Tears run down my face as I try to convey deep and humble contrition. "I'm sorry," I whisper, gazing up at Damon's face for a reaction. There is only the tiniest flinch as I attempt to chip away at his wall of hatred. His voice still oozes sarcasm.

"Elena Gilbert apologizes, alert the media," Damon jokes bitterly. "Do you even know what you're sorry for," Damon questions curiously? His eyes are devoid of all sympathy for my tears. I answer, hoping the words will reach him.

"For hurting you," I respond back as if it is the most obvious answer in the world.

Damon breathes out an aggravated sigh at my answer, but his voice betrays his deeper vulnerability. I am breaking though, if only a tiny bit.

"You know what the saddest thing is Elena," Damon asks rhetorically? "I don't even know which time you're talking about."

My face scrunches up in confusion, so I ask, "Which time I what?"

"Which time you hurt me, because there seems to be an ever growing list," Damon reminds me, as he recites them off one by one. "There's the time you colluded with my brother to snap my neck, the time you called my love for you a problem, the time you practically jumped me and then told me you didn't know if you had feelings for me, or quite recently when you asked my brother on a date two days after you made out with me. So tell me, which offense are we apologizing for today?"

"All of it. I'm sorry for all of it," I confess behind a heavy stream of tears. Damon takes a beat before continuing to make me feel like the worst person who ever lived.

"I'm sorry are two awfully, tiny words to encompass all that. Is that really all you have to say to me," Damon questions expectantly?

My hands fly into the air in a defeated gesture. "I don't know what else to say. I don't know how to fix this," I admit regretfully.

"That's your problem Elena," Damon accuses. "You think you can do whatever you want and later apologize as if that makes everything okay. This isn't Church; you can't just confess your sins and be granted absolution. A few sincere words aren't enough," Damon claims indignantly.

"Why not," I question, losing patience with being at the receiving end of his righteous anger? "I've made some mistakes. I was wrong, but after everything, I don't understand why you can't just forgive me."

Damon wavers only slightly. His voice loses the edge of anger, but it still maintains a firm resolve that leaves no room for dissent. "Because you still don't get it," Damon accuses calmly. "You still don't understand _why_ it was wrong. All that you know is I'm upset, and you don't want me to be mad at you. That's not enough. I don't accept blanket apologies, so until you figure it out, don't come back," Damon orders. Once again I try to reason with him. He almost always listens to me even if he doesn't agree, but tonight Damon seems free of patience.

"Damon . . ."

"No, I'm not changing my mind this time just because you ask me to," Damon interrupts. His voice is once more filled with anger. He is barely containing his temper, and his next words exit his mouth more loudly than he likely intended. "If you really give a damn about me, you will figure out your own life before you come in here trying to screw up mine."

This time I don't argue. What could I really say? Apologies aren't enough, and it seems I've let down the one person who never gave up on me. The least I can do for him is abide by his wishes. "I'll go," I agree quietly, hoping to leave while I still have some small shred of dignity left.

"Before you do, answer me one question," Damon requests distantly.

"What," I ask timidly, afraid of what he wants to know?

"Did you even tell Stefan about Denver before you asked him to the decade dance," Damon questions?

Shame fills my face, because I know I have to answer him honestly. "No," I reply remorsefully. That would have just opened up too many questions that I wasn't prepared to answer, but I knew it was wrong to ask Stefan to be my escort under false pretenses. I guess my hopes of maintaining some dignity are shot to Hell.

Damon doesn't appear surprised by my answer, but he does seem even more disappointed, if that is even possible. "I thought as much," Damon states. "You're far too much of a coward for that. Apparently when _I_ kiss _you_, it is imperative you alert Stefan immediately, but when _you_ kiss _me_, suddenly your lips are tighter than the CIA."

I remain silent standing in his room after he lobs another insult in my direction. I don't even have the strength to argue or rationalize anymore. Damon's next order is a small relief, because I am suddenly dying to be as far away as possible. "You can see yourself out," Damon instructs coldly. My feet move me closer towards my car as I operate on auto-pilot.

It occurs to me as I am driving further and further away, that the most terrible feeling in the world is guilt when you know you truly deserve it. I might not understand what Damon meant by why my actions were wrong, but he was hurt, near broken, and I am to blame. If he needs me to figure out why, then that is exactly what I will do, because the thought of Damon cutting me out of his life is unimaginable.

**As Always Please Read and Review**


	2. Chapter 2

Two days, almost 48 hours, and I still haven't heard from Damon. He is standing his ground for once, and I don't know what to do with myself. I can't even remember the last time Damon and I have gone so long without talking. I wish that all this forced solitude has given me time for a moment of clarity, but I am still as lost as ever. After checking my phone for the 47th time, finishing my second run, and checking over my homework for the third time, I decide to distract myself by visiting Ric while he is on lockdown. After the incident at the dance, Ric insisted he stay locked up for at least a week until he could be sure Bonnie's herbs were working. He probably needs another batch of supplies, and if I happen to run into Damon while I am over there, all the better.

After grabbing a few essentials for Ric, I find myself at the door of the boardinghouse. Stefan lets me in and is polite enough to pretend that he doesn't notice me looking around for his brother. When I realize Damon isn't home, I head down to visit my teacher/father figure/friend in the hopes that he can keep my mind off my problems.

Alaric's face is a welcome sight after the past few days. At last, someone who isn't mad at me or waiting on me to make some monumental life decision. He looks a little worse for the wear after two days in a makeshift dungeon, but I'm encouraged that he hasn't lost his sense of humor. "I didn't realize it was family day at the Salvatore Prison," Ric jokes sarcastically.

I smile back at him and announce my official reason for the visit. "Brought a few supplies to tide you over," I state while tossing the bag in his direction.

Alaric only stares back at me puzzled. "Stefan brought me supplies yesterday," Ric reminds me, and suddenly my great excuse starts to fall through. "He said he ran into you while he was gathering my things, so you must know I won't need anything for a couple days. What are you really doing here," Ric asks with a probing gaze. This was a thinly veiled ruse to see Damon again or to take my mind off him completely. I shouldn't be surprised Ric saw right through it.

"I needed a break from staring at my ceiling and contemplating the tragic mess I've made of things," I admit. Alaric doesn't skip a beat before going into protective paternal mode.

"It can't be all that bad. At least you don't have an evil alter ego that almost killed your best friend two nights ago." Alaric jokes, trying to lighten my mood. His attempt is well intentioned but ultimately unsuccessful. Ric was possessed and not in control of his own actions. I didn't have such an excuse.

"True," I concede, "but what you almost did to Damon wasn't your fault. What I did to him was."

Alaric is once again puzzled by my words, and it doesn't take him a second to inquire further. "What did you do?"

This discussion could take a while. Lucky neither of us has any place to be. "Do you want the whole list, because Damon was kind enough to recite it in chronological order," I respond half-jokingly?

His face is nothing but sympathetic as he asks me to continue. "How about just the first one," Ric suggests?

The night of the ball isn't exactly one that I wish to relive, but if I am ever going to fix things with Damon, I need to face where it all went wrong. I start hesitantly, scared Ric will be mad at me too for hurting his friend.

"The night of the Mikaelson's ball, Esther wanted to meet me alone, and Damon was afraid it was a trap, so he wouldn't let me go. I went behind his back to Stefan and convinced him to snap Damon's neck to keep him occupied while I talked to Esther," I finish quickly, like I'm ripping off a band aid. I expect anger or disappointment or sympathy. What I don't expect are the next words out of Alaric's mouth.

"Can't say I'm surprised," Ric states matter of factly. His face isn't mocking or teasing. He is entirely serious. I admit to doing a terrible thing and even Ric, the closest thing I have left to a father, says he isn't shocked at my behavior. Pain is laced in every word as I continue this agonizing conversation.

"I tell you that I betrayed Damon and you're saying you're not surprised. Have I been that awful of a person," I meekly ask, hoping for a strong rebuttal?

"Not awful per say, just a little spoiled," Ric admits, while avoiding my gaze. This is something he's thought about before. You don't just call someone spoiled over one indiscretion. Spoiled is a characterization placed on a person after multiple infractions. There is more to this than just what I did that night, and I'm determined to find out what.

"I'll skip over the fact that your attempt at making me feel better includes an insult. What do you mean by spoiled," I question interestedly? Ric seems cautious in answering, afraid of saying the wrong thing, but ultimately he starts a little mini speech that is so well thought out, I realize Alaric has had far too much time on his hands under this self-imposed lock down.

"Before Stefan left, the two of you made most of the decisions, while Damon was resigned to either follow your lead or go rogue on his own," Alaric points out. "Stefan let you do whatever you wanted regardless of whether your plans were going to get you killed. Anytime Stefan didn't agree with you, you went behind his back and did it anyway, like when you went to talk to Katherine in the tomb, or when you undaggered Elijah. Damon didn't let you get away with that. He required you to compromise. It is a balance that you both need. Damon is often times too goal oriented and he fails to see the collateral damage. You are sometimes too emotional and you lose sight of reason and make hasty decisions. Your compromises with Damon were what kept you alive. You going with Esther alone was a bad idea. There is a reason she wanted you to come alone. She was counting on the trusting nature of an 18 year old. If Damon were in that room, he would have asked some questions before allowing you to hand your blood over. Knowing what we know now, you could have killed Damon, Stefan, Caroline, and Tyler just by stubbornly refusing to compromise," Alaric finishes on a depressing note.

I almost killed Damon. That wasn't a thought I had allowed myself to dwell on until now. If Elijah hadn't discovered my deception, Stefan, Caroline, Tyler, and _Damon_ would be dead. The very idea sends a chill down my spine. Losing them would have destroyed me, especially if it was my fault. That's why Damon had to turn Abby. Once again, he was cleaning up one of my messes. Caroline was wrong when she said it wasn't my fault. It was, just not for the reasons I thought. I think I finally understand my mistake, so I ask Ric just to be sure.

"So that's why Damon's mad at me, because my bad decisions almost got him killed," I question, hoping to have stumbled upon the right answer. Judging by Ric's expression, I missed the mark by a lot. Since leading me to the answer is proving unsuccessful, Alaric spells it out for me.

"No, he's mad at you, because you took away his voice in all this," Ric explains. "The two of you were supposed to be a team working together, but the second you didn't get your way, you ran to Stefan. It is like a child running to one parent after the other has already said no. In Damon's eyes, you were saying his opinion doesn't matter, like he doesn't matter."

Understanding dawns on me, but it only makes me feel worse. My voice breaks and I stumble over my next words. "I never meant. I never thought."

"I know you didn't," Ric interrupts. He truly appears sympathetic, either because he understands, or because he pities me too much to act angry. His next bit of advice sounds so wise, it makes me wish that Aunt Jenna had lived long enough to give them a child, because despite Ric's past and his occasional alcoholic tendencies, he was made to be a father. His words are comforting and make me feel safe, even when he's bringing up my faults.

"Being spoiled from time to time doesn't make you a terrible person," Ric claims. "You're only eighteen years old. You're barely more than a child. It's okay to make a few mistakes, but growing up means seeing other people's sides and finding common ground. I know that I've been a little too defensive when it comes to you and Damon, but it's only because I want to protect you. You just need to remember that so does he."

I smile gratefully at Ric and embrace him in a big bear hug before making my exit. "Thanks for the advice. I better go, technically I'm in exile from Damon's presence, and I don't want to give him another reason to be mad at me." Ric give an understanding nod as I walk out the door only to run into the subject of my angsty crisis.

"Hi," Damon greets awkwardly, caught in between cold indifference and an unwelcome bit of joy at seeing me after two days. Feeling the need to justify my presence, I explain my official purpose in coming.

"Hi. I was just visiting Ric," I quickly clarify. Damon just nods a lot, clearly unsure what to say himself.

"Me too," Damon adds, holding up a bottle of liquor. "I brought some bourbon to help pass the dull hours." After a moment of silence, Damon makes an attempt at walking past me before I catch his arm.

"I know, Damon," I state cryptically. My eyes join with his, searching for some connection. Unfortunately, Damon is too guarded right now to connect with anyone, but he does question me further, for curiosity if nothing else.

"What do you know," Damon asks scanning my face for any clues?

"I know why it was wrong to go behind your back at the ball." Damon stares back apprehensively, deciding whether to trust me enough not to hurt him further.

"Finally figured it out, well let's hear it," Damon challenges. "I'm on pins and needles dying to hear your theory," he replies sarcastically.

"I was being selfish," I begin honestly. "I only saw my own side and I didn't think about why you might have been worried about me. My stubbornness almost got you killed and I 'm sorry. Going to Stefan was easier than arguing with you. I chose the easier road. It wasn't because I don't value your opinion. I'd be dead right now if it wasn't for you, and I'm sorry if I made you feel like you didn't matter, because you do. You matter to me." Only someone who truly knows Damon could recognize the telltale lowering of his guard. It isn't down as far as I'd like, but at least he is hearing me out. His next words prove Alaric right. It is us compromising.

"You can't ask me trust you and then go behind my back because it's easier," Damon explains. Excited for any sign of progress, I speedily agree.

"I know that now. I won't ever do it again," I swear earnestly. Damon nods once and takes me completely by surprise.

"Apology accepted," Damon states sincerely.

"What just like that," I manage to ask in a state of shock?

"Contrary to what you may believe, I'm not actually trying to make you suffer," Damon claims slightly exasperated. "I need you to know what you did wrong so you won't do it again. We're a team. We work together," Damon states strongly. My heart warms at his referring to the two of us as a team again.

"So I'm forgiven," I question? Damon lets out a tiny laugh before answering.

"You've got one out of four right, so consider yourself 25% forgiven. You haven't even gotten to the tough stuff yet, so unless there is more to this apology, you should probably go," Damon suggests without any of the anger from the other night. I walk out the door much more hopeful than when I entered. One down, three more to go.

**As Always Please Read and Review**


	3. Chapter 3

**Wow, the response to this story has been amazing, far above and beyond what I have ever received for only two chapters. I love you guys. Thank you to everyone who has added this to their story alert or their favorites, and a very special thank you to everyone who has reviewed. I literally spent three hours perfecting this because of the wonderful encouragement that I received last chapter. I even received some constructive criticism, which I tried to address. For anyone disappointed that Elena had to be told out right why she was wrong, this chapter should satisfy you. Elena will always need a little bit of help figuring this out, because let's face it; she has the emotional maturity of a six year old, but I did try to have her come to her own conclusions. I hope you all enjoy.**

Its official solitude sucks. All of those writers who spoke of the peaceful relief of solitude were full of it. Being alone doesn't bring peace; all it does is slowly drive you insane. I pull out my journal and sit on the front porch in hopes that I can summon some answers from the pages, but after an hour, all I've done is break three pencils from furiously tapping them against the swing. Bonnie's sudden appearance at my front porch is such a welcome relief, anything to take my mind of things. She doesn't say why she's here and I don't ask, thinking maybe she just needs a distraction too. Unfortunately distractions only work if your best friend doesn't try bringing up what's bothering you.

"Journal's out it must be serious," Bonnie surmises astutely. Not wanting to open the can of worms that is my relationship with Damon, especially with someone who has every right to hate him, I dismiss her implied question.

"It's nothing Bonnie," I lie unconvincingly. She flashes me her best skeptical look before probing further.

"Elena we've known each our entire lives. Do you not think I know when you're lying by now?" Bonnie claims confidently, obviously seeing through my pathetic attempt at deceit.

"It's not something you will want to talk about," I warn her assuredly. Instead of caving, she takes a seat next to me and puts a major hole through my argument.

"I doubt you wanted to talk about me dating your brother, but somehow you managed to be okay with it," Bonnie reminds me supportively. She puts her arm around me and I settle my head on her shoulder. Bonnie reassures me in a soothing tone, and I'm reminded how our friendship has lasted so long, honesty. "You are my best friend. We can talk about anything," Bonnie claims sympathetically.

"Even Damon?" I ask her uncertainly, knowing how she must feel about him after he turned her mother into a vampire.

Bonnie flinches a little at the mention of his name, but she doesn't appear near as angry as I would have thought. She only looks tired and weighed down.

"I'm not going to lie and say that he's not a sore subject or that I don't blame him for what happened to Abby, but I'm not blind either. I know he's not the same man he used to be, so I can at least tolerate him for your sake," Bonnie concedes graciously. In that moment, I feel so grateful to have a friend can put her feelings aside for mine, but what surprises me the most is her claim that Damon has changed. It is not as if I haven't noticed the same thing myself, but I never thought that Bonnie did, so I ask her just to be sure she isn't saying it for my benefit.

"You really believe that he's changed?" Bonnie releases a tiny laugh like I asked her the world's most ridiculous question. As she answers, her words start clicking in my brain and she unintentionally makes me feel worse.

"Are you kidding? Do you even remember what Damon was like when he first came back to this town? He was murdering random people. He nearly killed Caroline and me, turned Vicki. Anyone who's been paying the slightest bit of attention could see the change in him. I may not always agree with his methods, but I know that he would die for you." I don't stop her to disagree, because I know that she's right. Damon would gladly lay down his life for mine, as I would for him. I don't allow myself to think too hard on what that might mean. I don't have time, because Bonnie's last sentiment hits me harder than all the rest. "How could I not see good in someone who loves you like that? He changed for you," Bonnie states. I try to come up with a rebuttal, something to convince her that Damon changed solely for himself, because I don't know if I am ready to take on the weight of what that truly means.

"It, it wasn't for me," I stutter unpersuasively. Bonnie only smiles at my obvious denial.

"Of course it was," Bonnie disagrees. "All that he does, he does for you."

Flashes of memories pass through my mind in an instant, compelling Jeremy, jumping in front of an arrow to save me, facing down Klaus, and saving my friends countless time, all that Damon did for me. The epiphany moment finally comes, and I am proud that I figured this one out without too much help. I suddenly jump up and surprise Bonnie with the swift change in my demeanor.

"I know this is majorly rude, but I have to go." I excuse myself quickly.

"Go where? I thought you wanted to talk," Bonnie asks clearly confused.

"We did and it helped more than you realize, but I need to talk to him," I explain hastily while walking down the steps.

"Why?" Bonnie shouts her question at my retreating form.

"Because you're right, so thank you," I reply mysteriously. I leave a very confused best friend on my front porch and race over to the boardinghouse to deliver my second apology this week. This time, Damon opens the door, and while he doesn't appear unhappy to see me, the greeting isn't exactly warm.

"Two visits in two days I must be popular," Damon jokes defensively. I don't let his sarcasm faze me as I tell him my purpose in coming.

"I've got apology number two all prepared if you're ready," I inform him, more confidently than I feel. Damon opens the door wider and gestures for me to enter.

"By all means," Damon replies. I don't even make past the entry way before my words start flowing out uncontrollably.

"Your love for me isn't a problem," I blurt out nervously. Damon tries to interrupt, assuming that I am only trying to take back what I said.

"Elena . . ."

"No, wait let me finish," I request pleadingly. Damon takes a moment to consider before allowing me to continue. "I was the one with the problem," I state, more than a little ashamed. "You changed for me. I told you to feel again, I told you not give up, and I told you to be the better man, and once you became the man that I always knew you could be, I made it seem like it wasn't enough, like your feelings weren't welcome or worthy of me. I can't promise you what I'll decide to do about you or Stefan, but you need to know that your love_ is_ good enough for me. You are worthy of being loved. I don't know if I can be that person for you, but I do know that your love kept me alive and safe. I am so sorry for what I said, because I didn't mean a word of it."

Damon just smiles appreciatively at my apology. He even raises his hand to caress my cheek before he informs me, "That's not all there is to it, Elena." I nod my head in recognition.

"I know that, too," I admit to Damon's surprise. He never expected me to figure out the rest, probably thought he would have to spell this part out for me. His voice once again holds his true vulnerability as he questions me further.

"You do?" Damon asks shocked and hopeful. I nod once more, which earns me another smile. I reach for his closest hand and I place small circles on it in a comforting gesture, like he did for me in Denver, not because he needs it, but because I do. I'm afraid once we confront all that I've done wrong that Damon will discover that I'm not worth it. Damon senses my hesitancy, so he reaches his free hand to lift up my chin. This small gesture gives me the strength to continue.

"At first I thought, you were just angry because I hurt your feelings or I didn't appreciate you, but I know now that there's more," I begin carefully. "When I thought about why I said it, all I could remember was what I was feeling at the moment. I had betrayed Elijah and you. I felt guilty for deceiving you both, and I lashed out. _That's_ why you're angry. I accuse you of lashing out whenever you're hurt or pissed off, and I use it as an excuse to fight with you or keep you away, but I do it too. It wasn't just that night. I've been doing it for a while. The night I tried to hand myself over to Klaus' lackeys and you stopped me, I tried to hit you. I tried to hit you, when you were just trying to save me. I did the exact same thing when you wouldn't let me run into the tomb with Katherine and Stefan. I beat on your chest and you let me. For months, I took every frustration out on you, and you took all of it without complaint. What's worse is that I only ever did it to you, because you were the one person who I knew would never leave me, no matter how I treated you. I took you for granted on that night and too many nights that came before it. I'm so sorry. I am so truly and deeply sorry."

By the time I finish my little speech, I am crying gently in Damon's arms. At first he is stiff holding me, unsure whether to hold me tighter or push me away. He settles on rubbing my back as I let out all my tears. I don't know how I can even hear him over my crying, but Damon talks softly to me and somehow the words reach me.

"It's ironic that as much as people talk about all our supposed differences, we are very much alike you and I. We feel too much, love too much, and when we can't take it we typically find the most self-destructive way of coping by lashing out at the people we care about," Damon summarizes poetically.

"I want to say that I won't ever do it again, but . . ."

"You can't," Damon interrupts, "no more than I could make that promise to you. We're both passionate people. It's why we argue so much. It's why that kiss left you breathless. Our passion is the best and the worst part about you and me," Damon concludes thoughtfully.

"So if we can't make promises, what can we do?"

"We can try," Damon offers as a solution. "We can try to be better for each other, we can try to remember that our actions have consequences, and we can try to curb our less nobler impulses," Damon suggests with a smirk. I can't help but smile at its return.

"So can I consider myself 50% forgiven now?" I ask worried about his answer.

"Yes," Damon replies. "Two down, two to go. You're halfway there and still nowhere near it," Damon responds casually. He acts like we haven't made progress in these last few days. I have sacrificed whatever dignity I had to come here and beg for his mercy, and he was making light of it.

"How can you say that?" I ask Damon accusingly. "I've spent days obsessing over how to get you to forgive me. I've given two really humbling apologies in the past two days, so how can say that I'm not close to getting you back in my life?" I demand an answer, and suddenly the mood in the room has completely shifted. Damon is back in defensive mode, and the logical part of my brain knows it is partly my fault, but the passionate side doesn't care. I attempt to continue my rant before Damon's words stop me.

"You're not close, because you're still scared to tackle the problems that really matter. These are the safe problems that you can fix. Come back when you've tackled one of the bigger issues, then I'll be impressed," Damon argues then retreats to his room leaving me alone once more. After a moment to fume silently to myself, I realize that he's right. I'm not just tackling these problems chronologically. I'm going for the easiest ones first. I know that I should focus on Denver, because that is the big elephant in the room that I'm not ready to face, so instead I make my way up to Stefan's room to try to deal with mistake number four.

**As Always Please Read and Review**


	4. Chapter 4

**I know this update is majorly late, but I've had a long week of working, so blame it on the tiny children. Anyway, this chapter is majorly Stefan and Elena heavy, but it has a strong Delena leaning, so don't worry I haven't gone insane and starting shipping Stelena. I just love writing heart breaking Stelena scenes, I don't know why. I enjoy these two breaking up so much, in a heartbreaking way, but I don't like it when they are together, go figure. I hope you all enjoy. **

To a vampire's ears, my steps might seem soft and hesitant, but I feel as if lead is weighing down my feet as I move closer and closer to Stefan's door. There was a reason that I didn't want to tell Stefan about my stolen moment of passion with Damon. I couldn't bear the look of disappointment or worse judgment in his eyes. I may not owe him any explanations after the past several months of rejection and coldness, but even I know it was wrong to keep it all a secret. It was just like my earlier kiss with Damon. I don't feel sorry it happened, but I feel guilty that I kept it from him.

Stefan's first words after he notices my arrival at his door, give me pause, and make me wonder whether any of this was ever a secret at all. "Finally come to tell the truth about Denver?" Stefan asks in a distant far off voice. His tone isn't judgmental or angry. It's just sad and tired. I think all of us are just so emotionally tired from this relationship roller coaster that never ends and none of us can ever get off.

As I struggle to regain my footing after Stefan's surprising clairvoyance, shock lingers in my words and I quietly question the man who I once thought of as the love of my life, "You knew?" I ask desperately. His perceptiveness shouldn't surprise me after all this time. He did always see Damon and I's relationship so much clearer than we did. Stefan was worried that Damon and I would end up together since Founder's Day. I expect Stefan to explain how he knew all along, how he saw some deep meaning in our argument and deduced the rest. However, once Stefan does answer, he takes me completely by surprise, and I'm left even more confused.

"No," Stefan states honestly thereby puzzling me further. If he didn't know, what was this conversation really about? Before I have time to ponder the question further, Stefan answers it with a tragic tone in his voice that reminds me of lost hope and broken dreams.

"When you first asked me to the decade dance, I thought it was because you had faced your feelings and still chosen me. I wanted to believe that so badly," Stefan admits letting his emotions rush in, and I swear I see a tear run down his cheek before he turns away. "But judging by your frequent visits to apologize to my brother, that isn't the case, is it?" Stefan asks already knowing the answer.

"No, it's not," I confess ashamed. He really thought that things could be as they were, me and him together, as if the past few months hadn't happened. If there was anything that our failed experiment of a date had taught me, it's that none of us could go back. We could only go forward, either together or separately.

Stefan finally summons the courage to ask the million dollar question. "What really happened in Denver?"

Even though I came upstairs with the explicit purpose of revealing the truth, I suddenly became tongue tied as the words came out. "I kissed . . . I made out with Damon." I confess, trying to look away from the betrayal in Stefan's eyes.

As is the running theme with the people in my life over the past several days, Stefan says something that makes me feel even worse. "But you still asked me to be your date, without telling me the truth," Stefan summarizes sadly. "You gave me hope that we could be together again." I can see by the look in Stefan's eyes that the hope that once moved him forward is now crushing him under its weight.

Hope is such a beautiful concept. It brings light to a world consumed with darkness, but its times like these that I find hope more destructive than even the most crushing despair. I use hope to hurt the people around me. Damon hopes that I might love him, and I reject him. Stefan hopes that we might get back together and I dash those dreams without realizing or meaning to. I hope that life will one day be simple again, and I am constantly disappointed. Reality and truth are the only cure to a disease as cruel as hope, if only I knew what the truth was, maybe we could all be free. The only thing I can do for Stefan now is admit the only truth that I am certain of.

"I'm so sorry." Those words seem to be my new mantra over the last few days. I say I'm sorry to Damon. I say I'm sorry to Stefan, but it doesn't fix anything. It doesn't bring clarity.

Stefan's hurt reply is only further proof of that. "For what part, lying to me, kissing him, or loving him?" Stefan asks with an accusatory tone in his voice. This is the second time that Stefan has accused me of being in love with his brother, and I can't help wondering how he can be so sure, when I am still so lost. Am I too close to see the truth? Is it obvious to everyone around me? I shake the confusing thoughts from my head and I repeat the same answer that I've been giving to everyone like a broken record.

"I, I still don't know how I feel about Damon." I stutter nervously, briefly wondering if that was really the truth, or simply what I needed to believe.

Stefan releases a tiny humorless laugh and bitterness covers his every word. "Strange, since everybody else does." Stefan alludes to the growing problem of my friend's interference in my relationship with Damon. They all have opinions. They all have advice for what I should do, and they all seem convinced that I have deep feelings for the elder Salvatore. The only person who isn't sold on the idea is me. Logically, I realize that the likelihood that everyone else is wrong is improbable, but there is something holding me back from agreeing with them. An undetermined fear takes hold of me anytime I summon to courage to question it all. My thoughts have taken me so far away, that I almost forget Stefan is in the room until I hear his voice again. "Is that what you told Damon, that you don't know how you feel?"

"Yes," I answer quickly and honestly.

"After you made out with him?" Stefan questions further with a curious expression on his face that almost resembles anger.

"Yes," I admit once more. Stefan just stares in disbelief for a moment, then in typical Stefan fashion, he blames himself.

"God, I'm such an idiot," Stefan states. I can't tell which part he feels stupid for, but he doesn't even give me a second to consider it before he continues on his rant. "I saw it," Stefan claims regretfully. "I knew that he was hurting, but I thought it was because you rejected him, which I guess you did, but not because you didn't love him. This whole time you've just been scared. Why else would you lie about something that is bordering on certain fact? You asked me to go with you to that dance because you were scared of what would happen if you went with Damon." My defensive side emerges with a vengeance, and I leap to my own defense.

"Are you calling me a coward?" I ask, offended that Stefan could think me so weak. His next question comes so far out of left field that it leaves me head spinning.

"Elena, do you love me?" Stefan asks expectantly and fearfully.

"You know I do," I respond without thinking.

"Do you realize that refusing to decide between Damon and I is hurting me?" Stefan questions gently, afraid of scaring me off the truth.

"Yes," I answer guiltily.

"If you don't love him, why else would you do this to me?" Stefan asks me miserably. "If your feelings for him aren't at least comparable to your love for me, then this choice wouldn't be so hard. I think you must be very frightened of _something_ to hurt us both this way."

I try to change the subject, redirect the conversation, anything to avoid facing the very same question that I've asked myself a thousand times. Why is this choice so hard? Stefan was my boyfriend for almost a year. He was loving and loyal. His recent mistakes aside, deep down he is a good man. Our love was the perfect example of what first love should be, but all that wasn't enough to make my decision simple. "Stefan, I understand that you're mad," I begin, hoping the topic change will distract Stefan from the bigger issue. My attempt fails utterly. Stefan _is_ mad, just not for hurting _him_.

"That's just it Elena," Stefan starts his second rant with gusto. "That's the part of all of this that really sucks. I don't have the right to be mad. I drove you away. Hell I almost drove you off a bridge. Nothing that you do to me now could ever tip the scales against you. So I don't have the right to be mad, not for my own sake, but I do have the right to be mad for _his_." Stefan claims unflinchingly. Out of all the reasons that I've given Stefan to angrily lash out at me, I never thought he would choose this one.

"You're mad at me for hurting _Damon_?" I ask, shocked to my core at Stefan's sudden defense of his older brother. Stefan let's out another sarcastic laugh before opening himself up in a way that he never did when we were dating.

"I should probably be offended that you sound so surprised, but I know it's my own fault," Stefan confesses with every word tinged with remorse. "I've pretended for so long that I didn't care about him. It was a defense mechanism I suppose. Damon pushed me away every time I tried to get close to him again, every time I tried to make things right. But I am not immune to his pain and his suffering. He's my brother. He's a part of me, and I feel it like it was my own." Stefan finally admits to the truth that I always suspected. He loves his big brother and despite all their fights and supposed hatred, Stefan wants more for Damon than the sad life that he's been living. Just when I thought Stefan had said all that he wanted to say, his words continue flowing out, maybe because he needs someone to talk to, or maybe because he just needs someone else to understand.

"It was different when I thought that you didn't love him," Stefan states calmly. "I could rationalize that it wasn't my fault or your fault. Who can control what the heart feels or doesn't feel? It was just one more tragic thing to happen to my big brother, but if you let yourself love him then maybe it doesn't have to end that way," Stefan tells me hopefully. I can't understand how someone who talks about wanting me back can push me towards his brother. Stefan senses my confusion and tries to elaborate on his inner conflict that he has probably been dealing with for longer than I knew.

"I'm not saying I don't want us to be together again, because I do, more than you know, but I can't let you pick me because you're scared or because you think loving me means you'll never get hurt. I may not deserve much from you, but I deserve to have someone who loves me more than anyone else in this world. You don't know how it felt back then loving Katherine, but knowing that I wasn't enough for her. She may have loved me, but she still needed something from Damon, something I couldn't give her. I can only imagine how it was for him. I was the one that she took in public. I was the one that everyone assumed was courting her, and all Damon got to be was the one that she turned to when the lights went out. I deserve more than that. My brother deserves more than that. If you can't tell me that you want me above all others, then please Elena, just let me go," Stefan begs and pleads more desperately and hopelessly than I thought possible.

My words fail me and crack under the tremendous emotional weight of the moment. "I don't know what to say Stefan." He just shakes his head and repeats my words back to me with a deep sense of resentment.

"You don't know," Stefan mimics like a really pissed off parrot. "I'm really starting to hate those words Elena. Figure it out and soon or if you're not careful you're gonna end up alone." Stefan warns as either a threat or an ultimatum. Either way, he quickly speeds out of his own room leaving me alone with my thoughts. In those few minutes alone, I replay and consider every word, theory, and accusation that Stefan spoke aloud, and I realize that our painful exchange did bring some clarity. I realize now why it was so wrong to ask Stefan to the dance after Denver. It was because on that night, I became the one person that I swore I never wanted to be, Katherine. I needed to find Damon, give him apology number three, and hope that he wasn't still angry over our fight from earlier. I race down the stairs to find a determined and distracted look on Damon's face. Before Damon says a word, I start talking really quickly.

"Damon, thank God. I need to talk to you." Damon appears unmoved by my words and lost in another world.

"Me, first." He asks quietly, and I am too confused and curious by his changed demeanor to disagree.

"Okay. What is it?" I question, desperate to know what is so important.

"I'm sorry," Damon apologizes as my eyes grow big and wide with disbelief. I utter the only words that are forthcoming in my state of shock.

"Huh"

**As Always Please Read and Review**


	5. Chapter 5

**For any of my readers who think I've been a little too harsh on Elena, this chapter is for you. It's hard trying to please so many people. Some people want Elena to spend ten chapters apologizing until Damon finally forgives her, and some people want me to show the young teenage girl some compassion. With this chapter, I hope to finally give Elena a little bit of a break. This is partially due to one review that I got which really made me reconsider how I was writing this story, so never think that the words that you write in your reviews don't have an effect, because they do. I take all advice on my stories into consideration, positive and negative. **

**As a little side note, last night's episode had me bawling like a baby with the death of 'good Alaric' and the rebirth of Original Evil Alaric, so I wanted to write a little eulogy for the dearly departed. **

_**Alaric Saltzman came to Mystic Falls a broken and troubled man searching for answers. When the answers he found brought him no comfort, he started to call this peculiar little town his home. He made friends, he found love, he lost love, and he touched more lives than he knew. Alaric possessed a brave soul and a pure heart, and he will be missed by all those who loved him. May he one day find peace at last. **_

Damon's POV

_20 minutes earlier_

I have exactly three modes when it comes to dealing with disappointment: kill people, sleep with inappropriate women, and get really drunk. Elena would seriously frown on options one and two, and I don't want to give her an easy out for picking Stefan, so I go with option three. I grab the nearest bottle of bourbon and two glasses and head downstairs to my favorite drinking buddy / prisoner. Once Alaric sees me with the alcohol in my hands and the barely masked tension in my face, he shoots me a questioning glare. Instead of spending countless hours talking about my feelings like we were on an episode of Dawson's Creek, I decide to stick with my old friend sarcasm to hide my secret pain.

"You and I are going to drink, until this bottle is gone, or until I no longer find myself obsessing over fights with confused teenagers, whichever comes first," I challenge jokingly.

Alaric stares skeptically, clearly not buying my feigned indifference, but he still takes a glass before attempting to peer into my fractured soul. "Another argument with Elena?" Alaric deduces arrogantly, taking far too much joy in my pathetic pining love for this girl.

I skip past his question and start venting my frustrations, not just from this fight, but from our entire relationship. "She just has to make everything so difficult," I rant a mile a minute. "Every word has to be picked apart and every small thing has to become some monumental fight." I observe, not caring that I sound more like a teenager than Elena does sometimes.

Alaric laughs at my aggravation and I briefly consider killing him again. I kid, sort of. He of course doesn't waste a second to make a joke at my expense. I really need better friends. "Yeah, because you're the low maintenance one in this relationship." Alaric laughs sarcastically at the idea.

With friends like these, who needs friends, I think to myself. My voice reaches an embarrassingly high pitch as I try to refute his assertion that _I_ am high maintenance. "I resent that. I am very low maintenance. All I ask is that Elena apologizes for treating me like dirt, and she can't even do that without sparking another fight." I feel justified. I feel righteous. Elena started all this to begin with. I _should_ be angry, but my anger quickly melts away when Ric calmly tries to apply logic to this situation. Yeah, like I come to him for logic.

"Maybe because you're not meeting her halfway." Alaric suggests, trying to play the role of sage big brother, like I don't have 130 years on him.

Alaric couldn't be right. I made plenty of concessions. She's the one who's being unreasonable. I try to make my point clear, hoping my only friend will see my side of things. "I forgave her after every apology without a moment's thought, and trust me when I say that wasn't easy." I admit honestly and more exposed than I currently care to be.

Once again Alaric tries to apply logic to this mess of a love triangle, like that ever helps. All the same, his words do sink in, and they make me question my own motives as of late.

"Does she really need to apologize for every single wrong she ever did to you?" Alaric asks expectantly and far too judgmentally for my taste. "Does she really need to figure out _on her own_ why every slight deeply wounded your fragile psyche? Couldn't you just tell her why you're so hurt?"

This prompts an immediate denial, since I will not stand for Alaric claiming that I have feelings. "I'm not hurt." I lie terribly. My pathetic attempt at denial does not stop Alaric in his mission to set me straight.

"Yes you are," Ric contradicts me unwaveringly. "As much as you hate to admit it, what Elena did hurt you, and maybe that's why you feel the need to punish her for it. Will that make you both even? Will that make you less angry? Ask yourself this, have you _ever_ taken the time to meticulously dissect your mistakes and apologize for every single one? Last time I checked, you gave Elena a blanket apology on your death bed, and she accepted it without hesitation. Do you think that was easy?" I find myself really regretting getting drunk with Ric, if he is just gonna use all my drunken confessions against me at a later date. He just had to bring up the death bed confession kissy thing. My defiance softens considerably at the memory.

"What are you saying, Ric?" I question not really knowing what he wants from me or what he expects.

"I'm saying maybe Elena isn't the only one who needs to apologize, and maybe she isn't the only one standing in the way of the two of you being together." A part of me thinks he's being ridiculous; I've wanted Elena for what seems like forever, but the other part questions whether I'm the one who's being difficult.

My voice cracks a tiny bit as I let my emotions take hold, but if anyone were to ever ask, I would deny it with my last breath. "She can't even tell me if she wants to be with me, let alone pick me." Alaric stares back sympathetically and pours me another glass of bourbon, which in hindsight is probably only the anesthesia he is supplying before calling me a coward.

"Which explains why you are so very scared," Alaric charges bluntly.

Now I'm really defensive. I've faced down Originals and werewolves and hybrids. I am certainly not some weak coward who hides from his feelings. "I'm n . . ." I begin before Mr. Fix It jumps in with more heartfelt advice.

"Yes you are," Alaric claims confidently, "and you don't need to be, because if it wasn't real she wouldn't be working so hard to get you back."

I want to believe him. I want it to be true so badly I can almost taste it, but 146 years of insecurities hold me back, and that is a lot to overcome. "What if she just wants me back as her friend? What if this isn't about love? What if it never was?" I throw out every possible scenario that has been burning in the back of my mind. Apparently Ric finds me hilarious, because once more, I find my supposed friend laughing at me.

"Friendship, you really think she values your _friendship _that much," Ric keeps laughing like the very idea that someone would value my friendship is insane. Remind me why I hang out with him again. He keeps mocking me, but this time, Ric at least makes a valid point. "I hate to break it to you, but as much as I enjoy our late night bonding over alcohol and sarcastic quips, I wouldn't be working half as hard as she is to win back your _friendship_."

His lighthearted banter must be contagious, because I feel the need to jump in with a joke or two of my own. "And here I thought our growing bromance was special." I state while throwing an arm over Ric's shoulder. He laughs and pushes my arm away playfully before responding.

"Well if you want it to continue, you will never use the term bromance again, and if you want Elena and you to be together for real, you need to remember that Elena's had a rough time of it lately, and a little compassion from you would go a long way." It gets very serious very fast, and the lighthearted nature of our drunken back and forth changes. Alaric's right. I've seen Elena suffer more in the past year than most people suffer in a lifetime, and it isn't fair that someone so kindhearted and brave should have to bear so much. As Ric summarizes the last painful year of Elena Gilbert's life, my sympathy for her plight overcomes my anger.

"She's eighteen years old," Ric reminds me softly. "In the past year, she's lost two sets of parents, her first love left her and repeatedly crushed her, and she's struggled so hard not to repeat the same mistakes that Katherine did. Cut her some slack. Whatever you're holding onto just let it go."

By the time that he finishes, I already have, and I know what I need to do next. "I don't do great at apologies." I admit to Ric nonexistent surprise.

"No kidding." Ric says, pretending to be shocked.

"What does one say exactly in these apologies?" I ask sincerely, forgetting the last time I gave a genuine apology, to anyone.

Ric takes no pity on me in my time of vulnerability and instead tries to explain the concept of an apology like he is talking to a two year old, who has never heard of one before. "Usually includes the words 'I'm sorry' with some brief description of what you've done wrong. I think you've heard enough apologies over the past couples days to know the drill pretty well." Ric states, with only a minimal amount of mockery in his voice.

"Thanks," I reply, as genuinely as I can manage without Ric thinking that I've gone soft.

"Wow, an actual thank you from Damon Salvatore, I feel honored." Ric pokes fun spiritedly.

"Don't be a dick about it." I request before standing up and leaving Ric with nothing but the liquor to fill the dull hours in his cell. I walk upstairs only to find Elena racing towards me, clearly on a mission and far less angry than when I left in a huff.

"Damon, thank God. I need to talk to you," she breathes out in relief.

I stop her before she can start whatever apology number three is about, which will only make me feel worse. "Me, first," I request politely. She looks perplexed at my sudden change in attitude, but grants my wish without question.

"Okay. What is it?" Elena asks, hanging on my every word in curiosity.

"I'm sorry," I confess, pouring all my emotions into those two small words.

"Huh," is the only response I get, and I have to remind myself not to laugh at her rather humorous confusion. This is a serious moment, and laughter might be misinterpreted as disingenuous.

"Are you really going to make me say it twice?" I ask self-consciously. "This is already a monumental achievement in my personal growth, let's not push our luck." Elena shakes her head trying to piece my words together in her head before speaking again.

"Sorry, I just don't understand what you need to apologize for. I'm the one who hurt you," Elena reminds me, as if I had forgotten. This is the make or break moment, where I can be an ass or I can be open and honest about my feelings. For the first time in a long while, I want to give honesty another shot.

"You did," I admit with difficulty, "really bad, and much more than I let on. Maybe that's why I put you through all this. I needed you to prove to me that I mattered enough for you to fight for me, like I have always fought for you." Guilt makes a quick and lasting appearance on Elena's face, and she attempts to cut in to say she's sorry.

"Damon . . ." she begins, before I cut her off.

"No, let me finish," I beg, afraid that if I don't say this now that I never will. "This is one of the more humbling experiences in my life, and I want to get it right." Elena just looks back at me with understanding and nods her head waiting on me to continue.

"I lied when I said that I didn't want you to suffer," I confess guiltily. "There was a part of me, a selfish part of me, which wanted you to feel one iota of the pain that you have caused me. I thought somehow it would make you appreciate me more, if you were confronted with the idea of losing me forever. Because of that, I held on to every hurt and every wrong, and I made you jump through hoops to prove that you cared enough about me to try."

This time when Elena tries to interrupt, I let her. I can see how much this pains her to hear. "I do care about you, so much, too much," Elena confesses with the tiniest hint of a tear gathering in her eyes.

"I know that now," I state with far more certainty than I would have felt this morning. "At least I think I know that," I waver a teeny bit in my conviction, but Elena's hand grabbing for my own give me some much needed confidence to continue my heartfelt confession. "I need you to know that I didn't do this because I relish in your suffering. I did it because I was scared. I don't let people in much, if you haven't guessed. For the longest time, the only two people in my life who I ever let see the real me were Katherine and Stefan, and they betrayed my trust and broke my heart. Then you came along, and everything changed for me. You reminded what it meant to feel again, and every day since I've met you, I have fought against what you awaken in me, because I don't want to get hurt again." I admit more exposed and vulnerable than I have ever been. She could crush me right now in this moment, because I just placed my heart in the palm of her hand. I've faced down death more times than I could count, but this is by far the most dangerous thing I've ever done. I open my mouth to finish what's left of my speech when Elena stops me. She places two fingers on my lips and we both tremble a little at the contact. When Elena remembers how to breathe again, she speaks softly and makes a simple request of me.

"I know there is more you want to say, but I need to say this first, so hear me out," Elena asks hopefully. I nod my head in consent and Elena begins a small speech of her own that brings warmth to my undead heart.

"I need to tell you that you are the last person in the world that I ever wanted to hurt," Elena states earnestly, silently begging with her eyes for me to believe her. "I see how much things affect you. I see the emotions that play across your face when you think no one's watching, and if I was ever the one to break you, the one to destroy the good in you, I would never forgive myself. So no matter what happens between us, promise me that you'll fight for it that you'll fight for the good in you, because that light inside of you is so bright, it would be a travesty not to let the world see you just as you are." I'm a little ashamed to admit that the heartfelt words of this eighteen year old girl have me tearing up like some lame lead in a romantic comedy. I nod my head in a silent promise, because I'm too choked up to find the words. Elena starts her third apology this week, but I stop her before it begins. "I need you to know how sor . . ."

"No, no more of that," I stop her abruptly. "No more apologies. I realize now that I don't need it. I know that you're sorry and you care about me. Our resident couple's counselor reminded me, in a roundabout way, of the night that you found out about my werewolf bite. I remember how you took care of me and consoled me and showed me greater compassion than I deserved in that moment. By forgiving me of all my sins without reservations, you showed such grace and such dignity. I fell in love with you all over again. So from this point forward, the slate is wiped clean. The only thing left is your choice, what you really want. If it isn't me, I'm not going to pitch a fit or go on a killing spree. I love you enough to let you go if I thought it's what you really wanted, but I don't think that it is."

Elena says my name in a tiny desperate plea for me to stop. It seems she is always trying to stop me, but I've never listened before, and I'm not going to start now. "Damon . . ."

"Stop, okay," I beg her pleadingly. "Stop thinking and overanalyzing. I know you still think that you're confused and you need time, but time won't change anything. It won't change Stefan and it certainly won't change me. This is _me_, Elena. You don't need a late night make out session to tell you who I really am or what we could have together. I don't know what's still holding you back, but for the first time, I'm not afraid, because I finally see what Ric saw, and it is beautiful and undeniable, and we owe it to ourselves to fight for it." I feel fired up and alive, because I feel Elena here with me in this moment, like we are sharing the same soul. She wants this as much as I do, if she would only let herself have it.

Elena is on the verge of crying again, and her words are barely recognizable, if not for my special vampire hearing. "You're so sure," Elena states. "I've never been sure, about anything. You have no idea how much I want to give in to all this, to you. I don't know why I can't." I pull her close to me as she leans on me or I lean on her, maybe we both lean on each other. I whisper in her ear, and even in this state, I know she can hear me.

"You're just scared, like I was. Once you figure out what you're so afraid of, it can't control you anymore. So take some time. Take all the time you need, because I would rather wait a year for the right answer than a day for the wrong one. Please, please just come back to me," I plead desperately. Elena looks up into my eyes and leaves one last lingering kiss on my lips before retreating out the door.

**As Always Please Read and Review**


	6. Chapter 6

**First off, thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I love reading and responding to each and every one of them. Secondly this chapter took forever, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. The end is intentionally cryptic, so if any of you guys have theories, I would love the read them. I hope you all enjoy.**

Six hours into a restless night of sleep, and I feel the covers being pulled roughly from my bed. Before I can even process the unwelcome interruption in my slumber, I see locks of golden blonde hair, and I know nothing good can come of this.

"Get your butt out of bed," Caroline commands authoritatively. No good morning, would you like some coffee, only a mysterious demand that I am incapable of disobeying, since Caroline could easily lift me up off the bed with one hand. I make no moves to follow her orders, and I can hear her impatiently waiting, furiously tapping her heels against the floor.

"What, why?" I ask groggily in my haze between waking and sleeping. My eyes glance at the clock and see that it is 7:00 in the morning. What could possibly be so important I think to myself? All the while realizing, I'm not likely to get answers from Caroline when she is clearly on a mission.

"It is time for a best friend intervention," Caroline proclaims, "so get all pretty and be downstairs in fifteen minutes," Caroline issues her instruction without interruption or room for argument. 18 years of friendship have taught me not to fight Caroline when she is in this state, so I pull on some clothes, head downstairs, and take a seat next to my human alarm clock.

"I barely even questioned why you dragged me out of bed at seven in the morning on a Saturday, because frankly you scare me when you're this determined, but what is this about an intervention?" I ask with irritation ringing in my voice as I speak. "Do I have a secret drug problem that nobody told me about?" I make my little joke in hopes of lightening the serious look on Caroline's face, but not even a smile.

"No," Caroline states matter of factly, "this intervention is about a certain close friend of mine who is currently freaking out thinking that the woman he loves doesn't want him anymore." I groan inwardly at the direction of this conversation. Caroline has made her position on my love triangle drama very clear. I'm surprised she hasn't had team Stelena shirts made. Yes, my best friend actually mashed up mine and Stefan's name to give us a couple name, about three days after we started dating. I beg her not to use the term in public, so she only pulls it out to torture me, because she knows I hate it. My groans are now audible and I start banging my head against the table hoping to knock myself unconscious to avoid this discussion.

"That's what you want to talk about?" I ask aggravated. "I think I liked this intervention better when I thought it was about drugs. By the way, do you have some, because I might need them before this conversation is over?" My best attempts to tune Caroline out are unsuccessful and Caroline puts her hand between my head and the table, so my loss of consciousness plan is out. I guess my only option is hearing her out, and praying this conversation isn't too unbearable.

"You and I have been friends, practically since birth, and I have supported all of your insane decisions, but you have officially lost your mind," Caroline claims emphatically. You would think that I had told her that I wanted to run away and join the circus. That she probably would have been more on board with, at least there were cute outfits. Damon and I together seems to violate Caroline's very belief system, judging by her reaction.

"Do I seriously need to remind you what it was like when you were with Stefan?" Caroline asks rhetorically, I can't help but roll my eyes at Caroline's blatant ignorance of the basic facts. "He was so sweet and good and kind." Caroline reminisces nostalgically. Of course he was, before he showed me the side of himself that he had been repressing, the side that nearly drove me off a bridge. Before that, he was a doll.

"Everything, you think Damon's not." I finish for her bitterly.

"I didn't say that." Caroline denies pitifully as if she doesn't know who she's talking to.

"No, but you were thinking it." I add a second later.

"Maybe I was," Caroline admits unapologetically, "but I didn't come here to badmouth Damon."

"Why did you come?" I question, obviously losing patience.

"I came here to remind you of the magic that is Stefan," Caroline answers with a lightness coming from her eyes. "I want you to remember the guy who saved me when Damon tried to drive a stake through my heart, the man who helped show me how to be a vampire without losing myself, and the man who setup a sleepover with you, me and Bonnie, because he wanted to be sure that I was okay. Stefan is such a good guy." Caroline finishes her little speech, and is practically beaming now. I realize for the first time, just how much Stefan means to her. It makes sense she would fight so hard for him. Stefan helped her through some of the darkest days of her young life. From experience, I know the bond that forms from that type of closeness.

All of a sudden, Caroline grows very bashful and her confident exterior melts away and I see for just a second the insecure young girl that she was before she became a vampire. "I mean, if he had shown the slightest interest in me when he first came to town, we would've thrown down over that boy." Caroline tries to sound kidding, but I can't help but feel the truth in her words wash over me. I knew that Caroline wanted Stefan early on when he came to town, but I always assumed her little crush had died a long time ago. Judging by the way she refused to meet my eyes, that wasn't the case.

"You just summarized all the reasons why _you _should be in love with Stefan. You are aware of that right?" I point out, with only a tiny bit of humor in my voice meant to keep the moment light. My laughter is entirely unintentional as Caroline's voice gets all stammery.

"That, that's ridiculous, you and Stefan, that's the way that it's _always_ been." Caroline claims, acting as if Stefan and I have this multi-year relationship instead of one that barely spanned most of junior year.

"That's not a good enough reason to stay with him." I gently remind her. Caroline's face changes abruptly at my words.

"You sound like you've already made up your mind." Caroline states with a hint of a question in her tone and a lot of judgment. Now it's my turn to get all nervous and stammery.

"I, I haven't. I don't know if I have feelings for Damon or if I can repair what I had with Stefan." The words barely have a chance to leave my mouth, before I see Caroline making dramatic hand gestures.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold the phone," Caroline interrupts with her typical amount of flair. "I may be team Stelena over here, but I'm _not_ team delusional. You don't know if you have _feelings_ for Damon?" Caroline asks, with a look that tells me her opinion of my intelligence has decreased significantly.

"No," I answer cautiously.

"Do you have some paper and a pen I can borrow?" Caroline randomly requests, as if we weren't in the middle of a discussion.

"Over there on the desk." I point towards the general direction, too perplexed to argue with her sudden interest in writing. After retrieving the two items, Caroline takes a seat back down and starts jotting down words furiously.

"Obviously no one in your life has explained to you what romantic feelings are, or if they did, you were hopelessly confused, so I'll help you out," Caroline offers with a disturbing smile. "I've always been better at math than you, so let me explain a little arithmetic." Caroline places the pad of paper next to me and shows me what she's scribbled on the page. "Attraction + caring about a person = romantic feelings." Caroline states slowly, as if I was a small child struggling in school. She underlines romantic feelings six times in case that will help the idea sink in. I would normally take the time to argue or at least huff at her offended by how she was treating me, but in typical Caroline fashion, she doesn't give me the chance.

"I think after making out with Damon against a dirty wall, the ship has sailed on you denying that you're attracted to him, and you are always telling me how much you _care_ about Damon." Caroline puts special emphasis on the word care, like she thinks it means something else. "According to the Caroline definition of romantic feelings, you have them for Damon Salvatore, so why are you lying to me? More importantly, why are you lying to yourself?" I have a better question. Why do people keep asking me questions that I don't want to answer? Caroline's probing gaze doesn't let up until I relent.

"Damon thinks I'm scared." I confess, ashamed at my weakness. Caroline lets out a small chuckle, which seems slightly out of place after I've just exposed my deepest vulnerabilities.

"Hell must have frozen over on the drive here, because I actually agree with him," Caroline concedes with a sad grin. "Why are you so afraid?"

"I wish I knew," I answer honestly, no more sure of the truth than I was when Damon asked the same question yesterday. "Every time I ask myself that, my stomach starts to knot and my mind gets all jumbled, like it's protecting me from something."

"Like the truth?" Caroline guesses wisely. The lack of judgment in her voice makes me feel just a little bit more comfortable being honest.

"Maybe," I admit softly. Caroline just shakes her head in recognition. She looks defeated by my admission and her eyes hold a deep sadness that she tries to hide.

"I'm not gonna win this argument, am I?" Caroline asks dejectedly.

"Caroline," I whisper, struggling to find the right words to respond to a question that I can't even answer for myself.

"No, Elena it's okay," Caroline claims. Her voice maintains a calm tone that soothes my fears. If I didn't know better, I'd say it sounded a lot like acceptance.

"I could stand here and give you a thousand reasons not to pick Damon," Caroline states without her typical emotional fervor. "We could call Bonnie, and she could probably add a thousand more. I could make charts, pro-con lists, and I could give you a million speeches about why I think Stefan is your one true love, but none of that matters if he's not who you want. There might be countless reasons that I could argue for why you shouldn't do this, and only one reason to argue for why you should, but in the end, it's the only one that really matters."

"What's that?" I ask curiously, more than a little confused by her vagueness.

"You love him," Caroline asserts confidently. My stomach drops to my feet as I once again hear one more person in my life claim that I love Damon. I don't know what to say, so I stay silent staring at my feet to avoid Caroline's all-knowing eyes. Then, without warning, I start to hear a tiny chuckle come from my friend. The chuckle becomes a laugh, and before I know it she is bursting out with giggles. I attempt to ask her what is so funny, and after the hilarity dies down, she answers in between suppressed laughter.

"I didn't realize it before, but this whole situation is really absurd. We're talking about you hooking up with the man who almost killed your brother, hurt your friends, and nearly destroyed this town by accidentally releasing a tomb full of angry vampires into the general populace." Caroline recites all these events like she is telling the world's funniest joke. I clearly don't get it and am rethinking the possibility that Caroline is perhaps on some drugs.

"Remember the part of our conversation where you said this visit wasn't about blaming Damon for everything?" I remind Caroline reproachfully. This is enough to stop her laughter, but not to wipe the smile off her face, obviously she still finds this all strangely humorous.

"I swear I'm really not," Caroline promises genuinely. "My only point was that logically we shouldn't be here. Damon shouldn't even be an option or a choice, but somehow he is. Somehow against all odds and all logic, you two found a way to love each other, even when the whole world stood in your way. I guess I can find beauty in that, even if I wish that things could be different."

There are no more laughs or smiles. Despite Caroline's pseudo acceptance of my possible future relationship with Damon, she still finds this all so sad. It's hard not to. No matter what, very soon, I will have to break the heart of someone that I care for very deeply. There is no joy in that. Caroline starts talking again with a melancholy demeanor that rarely is seen on the queen of sunshine.

"Part of the reason I fought so hard for your relationship with Stefan was because you two gave me hope, in life and love. If the guys can't make it, then what was the point of all that's happened? What was the point of fighting so hard to stay together if you just fell apart in the end?" Something tells me this is about more than just _my_ relationship woes. Caroline is asking deep philosophical questions about purpose, meaning, and relationships that are far above my ability to answer knowledgably. I briefly wonder how much of this was ever about me and Stefan, and how much of this was about Caroline and her own search for meaning. After thinking deeply about Caroline's questions, I toss out every theory that I've come up with, hoping one of them will bring her answers.

"Maybe love was its own point," I contend. "Maybe taking joy in what we could share together for whatever fleeting time we had was what mattered, or maybe this was all about us growing up. Maybe it was realizing that what was good for us for a year isn't always what's right for us for the rest of our lives." My last theory sparks something behind Caroline's eyes, and she sits up straighter and talks gentler.

"I've been thinking that a lot lately," Caroline admits. Her eyes are cast down in shame at her confession.

"You and Tyler?" I deduce. Caroline just nods and stares down. She tries to maintain an air of confidence and humor in her voice, but I can tell how much she's struggling.

"Klaus may be an arrogant jerk, who I assure you, I would kill if I had half a chance, but he was right about one thing. I want more than a small town boy with a small town life, and I don't think I will ever have that with Tyler." Her own words cut her more deeply than she lets on, but her brave face is firmly plastered on and unwavering. I grab ahold of her hand and squeeze tight.

"Maybe we both need to let go." I suggest sadly.

"Easy for you to say, when you have another viable option," Caroline delivers the line with her perfected act of feigned happiness and a false attempt at making light of her circumstances. "Like I could even find another boyfriend that fits my rather limiting criteria. Where exactly do you propose I look for a handsome, kindhearted, worldly, immortal boyfriend, who can put up with my neurosis?" It doesn't take even a second for things to get very awkward as one name flashes in both our minds.

"Uh"

"On second thought, don't answer that." Caroline recovers quickly, trying to gloss over the giant elephant that has now let out a might roar.

"Want to focus back on my problems?" I offer in hopes of changing the subject.

"Oh, dear God let's," Caroline responds half-jokingly. I happily pivot our discussion back to safe ground.

"Damon says I'm denying my feelings because I'm scared, but I don't know of what. How do I move forward if I don't even know what is holding me back?" Caroline looks on with complete sympathy and love that I can't help but smile.

"I think you do Elena," Caroline claims. "The truth is just beneath the surface. It's that thought that keeps popping up in your head, that nagging fear that won't go away. You have the answers. All you need now is to face them head on. Just remember that whatever you decide, the world won't end. I know that my attempts at unsolicited romantic advice didn't go as well as I had hoped, but I only did all this, because I want you to be happy. So when you do make a choice, just remember, this isn't about what anyone else wants. This choice should only be about you." I wish that it were that simple, but when I look inside myself for the answers, I realize why it's not.

"You're right," I finally agree. "I do know what I'm afraid of, but the problem isn't just about me. From the moment this all started, it never really was, and that's what's holding me back." Caroline doesn't press me further, and I'm done sharing, so I leave my stunned friend to ponder my cryptic words as I head toward the boardinghouse.

**As Always Please Read and Review**


	7. Chapter 7

**So for those of you who read both my stories, two updates in one day, I'm super proud of myself. This has been a really great experience writing this story. I loved all the feedback, the gushing praise, and the thoughtful constructive criticism. I received a lot of guesses as to what Elena was afraid of, and in a way, you're all right. I try to address that in the second paragraph. With Damon and Elena, it is never just one thing. There is a culmination of reasons for all that they do, but I wanted to really take this story full circle to the very beginning of the series. In doing that I chose one reason, not for why she pushed him away all those times, but for why it took her so long to admit that she had **_**feelings**_** for Damon. I hope that you all enjoy the conclusion to this story, and please leave any comments that you have in a review. I cherish every single one. **

Equal parts joy and dread summarize my feelings as I complete the final steps towards the boardinghouse's door. I'm not in the dark anymore. I'm finally free to make my own choices knowing all the facts, but I'm reminded of the old adage ignorance is bliss. If only someone could whack me over the head with a shovel, so I lose some of my short term memory, because right now I'd rather be anywhere else.

I've dreaded this day for longer than I realized. Before I could even give voice or words to my fear, it was always there, from the very beginning. It wasn't the only one. There were others, too many to count. I had a thousand fears to rationalize pushing Damon away, fear of hurting Stefan, of taking a risk, of growing up, of Damon's unpredictability, of giving up on the idea of a normal life, and fear of facing myself for all that I am, faults and all. But these were all the reasons that I chose not to be in a relationship with Damon, they weren't why I couldn't tell him that I had feelings for him. There was only one reason for that.

I don't even need to knock, before the door swings open and an anxious looking Damon ushers me inside.

"You came back." Damon whispers. His words covered in fear and anxiety, desperately trying to read my carefully controlled face for clues on what I'm about to say.

"Didn't think you could get rid of me that easy did you?" I ask kiddingly, hoping to put off the inevitable. My attempt at a smile fails miserably, and I realize the elephant in the room isn't getting any smaller.

"You don't look happy," Damon observes, worried by my demeanor. "This isn't the part where you break up with me is it, because I don't think you're allowed to if we were never officially dating? Plus given your track record, coming here to break my heart would be way too predictable. " Damon tries to brush off his anxiety by making a pitiful attempt at a joke. His voice cracks as he begs, "So please, tell me something unpredictable."

"I didn't come here to break you," I admit honestly, not that my intentions matter much now. I take a deep breath to calm my nerves and I remind myself to be brave for him. Damon deserves the truth. That is the very least that I owe him.

"Among other things, I came here to tell you that I love you." I confess without a bit of regret. Damon's face lights up brighter than any star in the sky, and I struggle to remember what is left of my speech, but somehow the words come out.

"I wish it hadn't taken me so long to say the words I have felt _every_ day for months. Now that they're out, I never want to stop saying them. Damon Salvatore, I love you so much, for a million reasons. I love you for being strong enough to make the decisions that others are too weak to. I love you for fighting so hard against your own hurt and your own tragedies to feel again, because you think the very act of loving me is worth the pain. I love you for challenging me and questioning me either because you want to save my life or because you want to make me better. I love you for seeing not just the best parts, but the worst parts of who I am and loving me anyway. But mostly, I love you for letting me see the beauty of your heart, because it is bigger and purer than any I've ever known before."

Such joy and love, I've never truly known until I look upon Damon's face. I finally realize what I meant when I told Stefan that I didn't know what love truly was. It wasn't that I didn't love Stefan. It was that in loving him, I only saw a piece of what love truly was. But in loving Damon, I saw what it meant to truly offer yourself to another person. Damon's eyes were filled with happy tears, and I don't know if I have ever felt so truly adored in my life.

"I don't know if anyone has ever told you this before, but you make the best speeches." Damon remarks gleefully.

"I've had a lot of practice lately." I respond, thinking back to the past few days of apologies and arguments and conversations. I want to join Damon in his celebrating and in his happiness, but the grim reminder of why else I came is nagging my inner thoughts. Damon sees the conflict in my eyes. He grows concerned and starts stroking my cheek in a sign of comfort.

"This is supposed to be the happy part, where we declare our love and kiss passionately, so why do you still look sad?" Damon asks, suddenly fearful again, and I hate myself for wiping that joyful look off his face.

"Because I know what I was so afraid of all this time." I confess to Damon's absolute terror. He can feel it, the shift in the air. He feels me slipping away, and he tries so hard to hold on tighter.

"What is it, because whatever it is, we can fix it? I can fix it," Damon swears desperately. "You said so yourself, we make each other better. I can be better for you." I quiet his pleas by placing my hand over his mouth, unable to take another word.

"No, Damon, this isn't because of something you did or didn't do. You never needed to be more than exactly who you are. This isn't about you, and it isn't about me," I assure him, hoping this will bring him some bit of comfort.

"Is it about Stefan then?" Damon asks confused and hurt by this new round of rejection. "Because if you're worried about hurting him, I think that ship has sailed. I know you want us all to get through this unscathed, but do you realize, right now you're killing _me_?"

"It's not about hurting Stefan." I promise softly. My words only seem to be confusing him further. Damon looks lost and bewildered by my actions, searching for some meaning, some explanation to help him understand.

"Then what, after everything that we have been through, after the remarkably painful journey that led us here, what else is holding you back?" Damon questions, begging with me to put him out of his misery.

"Caroline said that my fear was the nagging thought in my brain that wouldn't go away," I begin miserably. "It has been there from the very first moment that I met you right here on this spot. I tried to tell you once why we could never be together, and there is a part of me that is so grateful that you didn't listen." Damon snaps back quickly before I can continue.

"If the words it will always be Stefan are about to leave your mouth, could you please just find the nearest pointy wooden object and kill me now, because I can't bear to hear them again."

"No, it's not Stefan," I answer truthfully. "It hasn't been for a really long time. It's what I've been trying to tell you this whole time. I said once that I wouldn't come between you two and I meant it. Nothing is more important than the bond of family, and I love you too much to cost you your own." Realization dawns on his face, and for just a moment he appears too shocked for words.

"My relationship with Stefan has nothing to do with you and me." Damon claims angrily, after he recovers, resentful that his brother is still coming between us.

"It has _everything_ to do with you and me," I bark back at him. "It always has. It was never just two people in this relationship. It was always the three of us. I saw it that first day when we met, by the look of rage in Stefan's eyes. Katherine's love tore you both apart and in the past year, it has been my greatest wish to fix what she had broken. I like to think that I have, that through loving me and trying to save me, you and Stefan found common ground for the first time since you were human. Destroying that tentative bond between you both is something that I can't live with. I knew. In the back of my head, I knew that admitting my feelings for you would lead us here to this moment, when I would have to let you go, and I was scared that the pain of it all would crush me."

Over a year of denial and the truth is finally out. I just wish it made me feel better. I wish that it didn't have to end this way. Damon isn't the type to see when there's no point in fighting anymore. He is someone who I picture going down fighting to the very last breath, and he loves just like he fights, tirelessly and unwaveringly.

"You don't have to let me go," Damon claims hopefully. "Stefan and I have survived so much together. He's hated me and I've hated him, but we always find our way back. We will again, and even if it takes a few decades of anger and resentment, I think it's worth it. I would choose you. I will always choose you." Those familiar words are like a dagger to my heart. I remember the way I felt when he first spoke them. I was too afraid of what they meant then, and I'm just sad about what they mean now.

"I know that," I admit despondently. "God, don't you think I know that? But I can't let you, not this time."

"How is this fair?" Damon asks still riled up and looking for any hole in my argument. "For almost a year, I watched you with my brother. I loved you from the outside looking in, all the while knowing that I could never have you. How is this any different? How could mine and Stefan's relationship not only survive but thrive in that time, when you say that it will be destroyed with the two of us being together?" Damon makes a rational and reasonable argument, but he too quickly forgets that he and Stefan are not the same.

"Do you honestly think that Stefan has the strength to do what you did?" I question him calmly. "It took everything in you to stand idly by and watch me be with him. I saw it, every look, every pained gaze, and it tore me up inside. I can only _imagine_ what it was doing to you. Stefan isn't strong enough for that. He's not strong enough to watch us holding hands at the grill or making out in your room. Our love would tear him apart. Us being together would cost you your brother, and I think you knew that all along." Damon just stands there silently covered in guilt. Guilt he feels for loving me, for choosing me, and for hurting his brother.

"It doesn't have to be that way." I hear a voice ring out in the silence. Damon and I turn around to see Stefan staring back at us, clearly having heard our conversation.

"Stefan," I try to respond feebly.

"You really think I'm that weak?" Stefan asks, not even giving me a chance to make up some lame apology for all this.

"Not weak," I answer sincerely, "just human." Stefan smirks sadly at my reply.

"Ironic, since I'm not," Stefan states, "but you're right, I can't just watch you two be blissfully happy together. It would be too cruel after all that we shared, but I can't watch you two be miserable without each other either. I love you both too much for that."

Stefan outlines our problem in a nutshell. He's too honorable to knowingly let his own brother suffer because he can't accept us as a couple. But he's not strong enough to step aside and watch us be happy together, like Damon did so many times for him.

"What other choices do we have?" I ask hopelessly, not truly expecting a solution.

"I'm going to leave town for a while. I started packing once I overheard the first part of your conversation. I already texted everyone let them know that I'm going." My mouth flies open at Stefan's words. Whatever we shared together, however it ended, I didn't mean to chase him away.

"Stefan," I call out, begging him to listen, "I never wanted you to leave." He lets out a heavy sigh, trying to fight the pull that I still have over him.

"It's not forever," he promises. "Just until it hurts a little less or maybe until I fall in love again, whichever comes first." Damon interrupts the conversation for the first time to interject his opinion.

"Let's not be overdramatic with the bags and the tearful goodbyes. You're not leaving," Damon responds almost like a command. Stefan smiles a little in appreciation at his older brother's attempts to keep him home.

"I have to brother," Stefan claims sadly. "This time I really have to, because if I don't, I'm going to grow angry and resentful and I'm going to start hating you all over again. I don't want to feel that way. I don't want to hate my big brother for the rest of eternity. So I'm going to leave, possibly for a year or a decade, and when I get back, things are going to be different. We're going to stop pretending. No more acting like we hate each other or only tolerate each other. When I come home again, we're gonna give this brother thing a real shot. There may even be hugging involved," Stefan jokes, trying to lighten the moment.

"Stefan," is all Damon says, unsure what to do or how to act.

"Don't," Stefan begs, "don't come up with a witty comment or a sarcastic remark. I'm trying to do a decent thing, and not because I'm a martyr or because I want everyone to think I'm a good person, but because I finally realized that I got what I always wanted. When I first came to this town, I would've given anything for you to find your humanity again, for you to be my big brother again. If loving her is what it takes to bring back the man I used to know, then I can live with that. You lost yourself once, because you thought no one in the world truly loved you, but I did. I never stopped, not for one day, not for one second, not even when I hated you. Never forget brother that you are loved more fiercely than you know, and not just by me." Damon is left speechless by the outpouring of brotherly emotion, and he surprises Stefan and himself by grabbing his younger brother into a long overdue hug.

"We're out of practice. I thought we might be rusty," Damon offers as an excuse. "Stefan, I, I," Damon stutters trying to make the words come out.

"I know," Stefan says, letting Damon off the hook. "Me too."

"Never thought I'd be sad to see you go." Damon remarks truthfully.

"I never thought I'd be sad to leave you," Stefan echoes back. Stefan's gaze goes back and forth between me and Damon as he speaks. "Take care of her," Stefan asks of Damon. "Take care of each other and be safe."

"Where are you going to go?" I ask, unsure what Stefan even did before he met me.

"Travel, maybe a world trip, see some friends." Stefan answers. He picks up his bag and is about to leave before he hears a whoosh of air and a voice in the doorway.

"Got room for one more on your world adventure?" Caroline asks with a gentle smile on your face.

"What are you doing here?" Stefan's smile grows wider at his Caroline's sudden appearance.

"You didn't think I would just let you leave after your heartfelt text goodbye did you? Well you don't have to worry about missing me, because I am tagging along." Stefan is clearly stunned, but I can tell by the determination on Caroline's face that she has already made up her mind.

"What about your life here, Tyler your friends?" Stefan quickly lists all the rational sane reasons why a high school senior can't just pick up and go. Then again, when was Caroline ever rational?

"I broke up with Tyler about ten minutes ago," Caroline admits with a trace of sadness, but a lack of regret in her voice. "My friends will still be here when I get back, and I think it's about time I started really living my immortal life, and there is no one that I'd rather have at my side to show me the world than you." Caroline confesses with a genuine smile.

"I'd be honored." Stefan accepts and he grabs her bag and puts it in his car. We follow them both outside and prepare to say goodbye. Caroline and I hug half a dozen times, and swear that we will keep in touch almost every day. My turn finally comes to say goodbye to Stefan, and I have no words left, no words to tell him what he meant to me or how sorry I was for how things ended, so I just gave him one last goodbye hug.

"You think this is ever gonna be less hard?" Stefan whispers in my ear, before letting me go. I smile just a tiny hopeful smile and nod.

"I think given enough time, you and I could actually be friends."

"Maybe in a decade or so we'll give that a shot," Stefan suggests happily.

"I'll miss you," I confess.

"I'll miss you too," Stefan admits. He gets real close before whispering so softly, I'm sure he only wants me to hear. "Little bit advice, I'd wait at least three years before Damon turns you. Having bartenders ask for your I.D. for all eternity gets really old." Damon is far enough away, and Stefan speaks low enough, that I don't think he knows what his brother just said, or if he does, he shows no signs. Damon just looks quizzically at us both, not jealous or scared, just curious at what just transpired.

"What makes you think I would?" Stefan flashes a knowing smile.

"Call it a hunch. Plus I'd never forgive you for leaving me with a mopey older brother for all eternity."

"That would be too cruel." I remark, not dwelling on the consequences of what I've just agreed to, another problem for another day.

"Be happy." Stefan asks sincerely.

"You too," I reply with one last smile. Stefan's car disappears into the distance before either of us speak. There are no more obstacles, no more fights, no more reasons not be together. For the first time, since we've met, Damon and I can just be happy, at last.

"What happens now?" Damon asks, giving voice to my inner monologue.

"Now, I really need you to kiss me." I state joyfully, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"I thought I wasn't allowed to kiss you again." Damon teases me, unable to wipe the smirk off his face. I release a fake sigh of exasperation at Damon for being difficult, because a part of me secretly loves it.

"When will you learn to stop listening to the words that I say? I only mean like half of them." I admit half-jokingly.

I expect Damon to lean in, kiss me like he never has before, and never let me go, but instead he tells me softly, either as a statement or as a question, "No turning back now."

"No turning back, ever." I admit, and the last defensive wall that Damon puts up has been stripped away. I could worry what my friends will say. I could worry about our future. I could worry about Klaus still being alive, but right now having Damon hold me in his arms knowing that he's mine and I'm his is all that really matters. So I surrender completely to his kisses, his embrace, and his love, no longer afraid of what the future may bring.

**As Always Please Read and Review**


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